


Poison Ivy: Arkham Part 1

by PoisonKisses



Series: Siren Citizens of Gotham [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses
Summary: So much is written about Harley's experiences in the infamous asylum, but what was it like for Poison Ivy--a sane woman with power being held against her will in a place meant for the criminally insane?When Lucas, a disabled vet, gets a job as Custodian at Arkham, he slowly comes to know the beautiful inmate.





	Poison Ivy: Arkham Part 1

Lucas loved her.

He hadn’t meant to fall in love with a patient. This whole situation was so...messed up. He’d only meant to find a job, pay his bills, try and forget.

You don’t join the United States Marine Corps expecting to come back in pieces, discharged, thank you for your service but we can’t use you anymore. You’re broken. Unfortunately, that’s what happened. He’d gone--three times he’d gone--and come back slightly more tan and none the worse for wear. The last time though…

It was the looks that really got to him. The looks of pity, of sympathy, the ‘oh, I’m afraid we’re not currently hiring, but let me make some calls.’ All Lucas had ever wanted to do was serve his country, have some fun, fight the bad guys. He’d skipped college, ignored anything but the Marines.

Arkham overlooked the prosthetic, the limp, the terrible high school transcript and the DUIs. They couldn’t afford to be choosy--Arkham paid well for anyone willing to work there. So Lucas became the newest custodian, assigned to the Intensive Treatment facility--the place they kept the worst of the worst.

Mr. Cash was very nice, patiently explaining the general safety rules. That first night, the first tour of his rounds was given by Mr. Ferrer.

Lucas hated him.

Ferrer was loud and obnoxious, posturing, showing off for him. Intensive Treatment was a horror show--dark, gothic, with distant screams echoing down the dimly lit corridors, begging, pleading, piss and vomit on the walls, patients glaring at him with bloodshot eyes through their shatterproof glass enclosures, leering at him, offering him everything from sucking his dick to cutting out his eyeballs, regardless of gender, as he passed them by. These were the no-names, the generally insane people Gotham and its nightmarish darkside created.

“Ok, bro, you ready?”

“Ready for what?” He watched Ferrer warily, wondering what was coming next.

“Time to see the Veeps, bro. The big guys. The ones the Bat brings in.” He said the last part in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Well, I’ll be working that hallway, right?” He indicated the electronically locked door, the sign over it reading: Intensive Care--Special Needs Wing. WARNING: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.”

“Yeah, gotta clean up after them too. Some of em are pretty gross.” He passed his key card over the lock, punched his passcode in, and the door opened with a hiss.

This part of the Asylum was old--part of the original house--and much of it was hundred year old stonework, bricks, even hardwood floors in places. He’d have to do a lot of waxing. In contrast, the patient cells were the highest of high tech. 

He knew the names, of course. Dent, Harvey. Nygma, Edward. Fries, Victor’s inclosure was a giant steel door, a little glass porthole leading to a frozen interior. Most ignored him. Dent--Two Face--stared at him as they walked past, his ruined eye red and crusty as it followed him, but the man said nothing.

“You’re lucky. Joker is out right now.” Ferrer indicated a large enclosure, the door open. The inside of the room was padded and nothing else was contained inside. “He has special rules. A couple of them do. You never interact with him at all. No talking. No touching. Don’t even look at him. If he somehow gets out, you hit the nearest panic room and don’t come out til Mr. Cash himself opens the door. Or the Bat.”

“The Bat comes here?” He asked, kind of intrigued despite himself.

“Yeah, I seen him. Seven feet tall, huge. Voice sounds like a demon. He looks at you and it’s like the devil himself has you.”

Lucas suppressed a shudder as they continued, listening as Ferrer talked about special rules.

“Ok, this is Quinn.” The girl inside would have been pretty if she’d not been staring at him like a hungry animal, her big blue eyes dilated, lips pulled back in a rictus grin, the beginnings of a serious black eye and bruise on her cheek evidence of recent violence.. Her hair was a rat’s nest, pulled into messy pig tails, and when she spoke her voice was nasally with an affected ‘little girl’ lilt.

“Hey there, stumpy. Wanna let me out? I’ll give ya some of Joker’s sloppy seconds!” She mimed a lewd act, and Lucas felt his face burn. 

“Shut up, Quinn,” growled Ferrer, and slammed the glass with the end of his collapsible baton. The girl jumped back, then promptly flipped him off.

“Come in here an’ make me, Furry. I gots a place to put yer stick.” Ferrer hit a button on the panel labeled “Quinzel, Harleen F. and the glass darkened.

“Can’t let em get to you like that, kid. You won’t last a week. That one? She’ll slit your throat in a second to get to the Joker. Obsessed. She’s sexy as fuck, too, when she’s not in here. Such a waste. Things I’d do to her…” he started to trail off, but then stopped, eyes gleaming. “Ok, wanna see the pit?”

“What’s the pit?” He’d been staring at the darkened glass.

“UV Light Controlled Cells. It’s where they keep Croc and the other female inmate.” He nodded, and Ferrer led him to a small, ancient elevator. The thing rattled as it took them down, and they were underneath the Asylum, in the oldest part of the place. Crumbled masonry and the damp, dank, musty smell of old building around them was cloying. The elevator opened up into a single hallway. To the left were old stone steps going down. The right was narrow and twisty, everything lit only in red light, like a photo lab. Even Ferrer seemed quieter.

“Ok, look. There are special rules here. That way,” he indicated the steps, “leads to Croc’s enclosure. Never go down there. He can wallow in his own filth, you have no reason to clean anything. That thing will eat you...that’s what happened to Cash’s hand.” He made a snipping motion. “He bit it off, dude.”

He nodded. Ferrer continued. “This way leads to Poison Ivy. You don’t look at her. Don’t speak to her. Don’t nothing. Bitch is a stone cold killer and she’ll make you her own personal piss boy in a heartbeat. You can turn on the real lights to clean around her containment unit, but you have to remember to turn em back off. She gets minimal light...tryin’ to keep her weak enough to keep her locked up. She’s got actual powers.” He nodded, curious now. 

“Come on, I’ll show you. If Quinn is a shame, she’s downright criminal. Hottest bitch I’ve ever seen.

They came to a security door with a plaque that read:

Isley, Pamela L  
Alpha Level Security  
Access Granted only by Cash, Aaron or Arkham, Jeremiah

Ferrer accessed the panel, scanned his retinas and punched in a passcode, and the door opened into an ancient chamber. It was dark, lit only by the eerie green glow of computer screens. There were a bank of them, monitoring the containment unit that dominated the center of the floor. It looked like something out of a sci fi movie--a large, circular chamber with 360 degree visibility on the occupant within. Pipes and cables ran along the floor to it, and it slowly hissed over and over, like it was breathing. The woman sat up when the door opened.

That’s when Lucas fell in love.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, even when Ferrer flipped on the lights, the enclosure was suddenly flooded with glaring fluorescence and she held up an arm and squinted. Her hair was blood red, her skin pale. She’d knotted her Arkham issue shirt up under her full breasts, baring her toned midriff and had stripped off the pants altogether, leaving her long, sinuous legs bare. A perfect brow was arched and she watched them, waiting.

Ferrer was oddly subdued. “Ok, that’s her. She can’t hear us, and we can’t hear her. There’s an intercom switch on the wall panel, but you don’t ever need to touch it. You’ll have access in here to clean, we’ll get you set up in the system once all your background checks go through.” He flashed an uncomfortable look at her, then scurried toward the door. “Come on.”

Lucas stared at her, meeting her gaze. Her green eyes were intense. Her full, pouty lips moved...she was saying something. Then she smiled at him--a sensuous curl up of one corner of her mouth. 

“Bro, come on. Don’t look at her, seriously.”

Lucas turned to follow, his heart hammering in his chest as Ferrer flipped off the lights.

He already couldn’t help himself.


End file.
